funny_herman | [timed to some weeks before christmas]

[timed to some weeks before christmas]

It was that time of the day when the Kit Kat Klub was at its emptiest and quietest, like a cold mausoleum containing the remnants of the revelries from the previous night. The only source of warmth and light that remained in it, though, was Herman, steadfastly working on musical arrangements to occupy his long hours of (mostly) solitude until evening.

As he worked away, wayward thoughts inevitably seeped in, his concentration becoming misty at the edges until a dense fog forced him to put his pencil down and stop what he was doing. He blamed himself for this relapse into semi-hermitism. If he would only relax and not keep to himself so much, this sort of thing would probably be easier to handle.

Those dreams about Fritzie had been waking him up again lately. They weren't unpleasant -- far, far from it -- but he could never seem to finish them without waking up. He wondered why they always ended so abruptly before the climax, and so he would have to finish the job himself. It was beginning to annoy him, in a petty, amusing way.

This is what he was contemplating at the piano instead of writing music, replaying dreams in his head and creating happy endings.

Quite engrossing.

[OOC: Plotlocked for Fritzie.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He's almost too delicious.

Fritzie smirks, giving him a coy sidelong look. "You mean to tell me that all this time what we believed to be your prodigious talent should actually be attributed to this very dear, but quite unremarkable-looking, piano?" She flares her robe out behind her like the tails of a concert pianist's coat, her frilly panties providing a quirky contrast, and plays a short chord progression. "Mm, would you like to know what I think? I think it's actually your fingers that have been enchanted all along, but a mischievous witch is trying to counteract the magic by putting a spell of befuddlement on you and therefore making it difficult for you and your fingers to concentrate."

His gaze naturally flits toward those frilly panties when she spreads out her robe.

"You may have a point there. Now, if only I could find this sorceress you speak of and teach her to behave herself, I might be able to get some work done."

"Perhaps, to give her the benefit of the doubt, she isn't being naughty for the sake of being naughty. Maybe she's attempting to be of some service to you, make it impossible for you to work so you've nothing left to do but have fun, get all that weight of responsibility off your shoulders and replace it with something...a little lighter." Turning on the bench, she leans casually back with her elbows plinking lightly down on the keys and lifts a leg to hook onto one of his shoulders.

Then she takes it down and shrugs with quiet laughter, still reclining back on the keyboard. "But I'm sure I'm giving her too much credit."

His neck burns warmly when she raises her leg over his shoulder, her robe parting even further when she leans back against the keyboard. Scenes from his fantasies go off like flashbulbs in his mind and he swallows hard, his deep-set eyes betraying his infatuation as his gaze traverses the curves of her body.

"Well...there is truth in what you say. So much so that I'm beginning to suspect that you are this mischievous nymph bewitching me with these daydreams. Or perhaps I'm simply wishing that you might be her, at least."

The lustful roaming of Herman's eyes is practically a physical caress and Fritzie stirs on the bench, crossing her legs as she leans forward to tuck a lock of blond hair behind Herman's ear, the pad of her fingertip deliberately following the curve of that ear all the way down to the lobe.

She'd meant it, when she told Sal that Herman was more than any average conquest. She hasn't been this intrigued or excited in an indeterminable while. Even her last tumble with the Emcee hadn't made her feel this eager.

"What daydreams would these be, Herman?" she asks, in a low, husky tone.

His gaze becomes too unsteady to meet hers, so even as he turns his head ever-so-slightly into her delicate touch, his eyes remain lowered, following the slant of her clavicle, the dip between her breasts. He moistens his parted lips with the tip of his tongue, swallowing again when he feels his throat go dry.

"I don't think even I could describe them to you with mere words..."

"Who needs words, with your clever fingers?"

A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "They are also rumored to be enchanted as well..."

Eyes still downcast, his hand hovers above her bare thigh for a moment, heat radiating from his palm, before he traces an invisible line on her milky skin with just his fingertips, right up to the garter of her panties.

She blinks slowly, watching him not look at her, the muscle of her thigh tensing ever-so-slightly under his fingers' touch. Covering his hand lightly with her own, she guides his middle finger up to the first knuckle under the garter, urging him to brush gently over the warm skin he finds there.

Herman presses the palm of his hand against the supple curve of her inner thigh, his finger slipping further under the garter as she guides him encouragingly. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's meandering through one of his own dreams. The moment is almost surreal when the pad of his fingertip finds its mark -- warm, silky, wet. He catches his lower lip lightly between his teeth at the sensation, his heart racing at the simple pleasure of it.

Fritzie leans closer, breathing softly where the collar of Herman's shirt meets his skin. The rest of her body is utterly still, coaxing Herman closer like one would a shy animal, letting him dictate everything, submitting her body for his delectation.

"I would very much like to make these dreams of yours come true." Her whisper is gentle but unfailingly lascivious all the same. Her mouth finds his ear. "All you need do is let yourself want it."

Having her mouth so close to his skin nearly makes him lightheaded, and his eyelids flutter with a brief dizziness. He turns his face to press his cheek against the soft waves and curls of her hair, breathing in deeply, rapidly, her bewitching scent filling his lungs. His free hand grasps the back of her neck, holding her body closer, his other hand squeezing her thigh and his fingertips gliding over her silky flesh.

Into her ear he rasps urgently: "I do want it... I do want you..."

Her moment of passivity rapidly running out, she roughly grasps his chin, her thumb stroking the strong curve of his jaw and her bedroom blue eyes travel over his face for several leisurely seconds before she pulls him into a hard, unyielding kiss. A throaty, delighted moan finds its way into his mouth when she tilts her hips toward his fingers.

His own moan is muffled when she pulls him into the kiss, his lips parting willingly under its sudden force. He feels her hips shift against his hand, and he responds with more rhythmic strokes, his slender fingers pressing more insistently against her flesh, not quite slipping inside her but teasing her in a rather polite way, as Herman may be prone to doing.

Unaccustomed to rather courtly manners in regards to sex, at first Fritzie thinks it's just Herman still showing signs of reticence, but as she's taking hold of his wrist to persuade him that if he wants to be more aggressive it's more than fine with her, she realizes this isn't the case, and breaks the kiss with a deep chuckle. She laps delicately at his upper lip, her tongue curling slowly back into her mouth. Her fingers release his wrist and come to rest on his fly instead.

"Oh, liebling," she sighs over his mouth, while she's tugging the tails of his shirt from the waist of his trousers, "you are rather marvelous."

Like learning a new piece of music, it takes these first few moments for him to get a feel for her, how her body moves and responds...thank goodness, though, that this is a lot less cerebral than a composition.

As she sighs against his mouth, he responds with a breathy chuckle of his own, first kissing her top lip, then her bottom lip, gently clinging to it with his teeth. Then as she pulls his shirt loose, eagerly anticipating her touch, he slides his fingers into her slowly and easily up to his knuckles.

She flexes around him with a smiling gasp and her own fingers reactively flick his first button free. Working on the second at a much slower pace, she bends her head to work on his throat, painting his skin with long licks and dotting it with tiny nips as she searches out sensitive spots to exploit.

His eyelids fall closed as he exhales a heavy sigh, tilting his head to give her mouth more to work with, his Adam's apple bobbing with each swallow under her teeth when his breath hitches. His fingers deep inside her, he begins to slowly and delicately curl and uncurl them. The way she feels, quite literally in the palm of his hand, is dizzyingly arousing, far more than what he had ever imagined...

The final button of Herman's fly released, Fritzie's fingers wander inside his trousers and go for a stroll, learning the lay of the land with deft, drawn-out strokes over the warm, taut fabric of his underwear. She groans open-mouthed with pleasure at the pit of his throat as her knees lock around his arm.

He lets out a hot, breathy moan against her ear when her fingers find their way down the front of his trousers, and he spreads his thighs as she closes hers around his hand. Continuing to stroke her with mounting intensity, he covers her hand on his groin with his free one, urging her on, his cock already growing firmer under her palm.

"Do you feel it... what your touch does to me..." he whispers, his lips clinging to her skin as he plants kisses down the side of her throat, before another moan overtakes him.

Her palm moves in circles, the heel of her hand pressing in firmly. "Mhm, I do. But I'd like to feel it a little better..." She begins to tug at the band of his briefs, pulling until she's bared his cock and immediately wrapping her slender fingers around it. She moans again, shuddering so hard and her flesh clutching so desperately at Herman's stroking fingers one would think she'll come then and there. Her head falls back further with each of his kisses, until it's hanging between her shoulders, her neck completely open to his lips and her every breath threatening to snap the catch of her bra.

His breath is hot on her skin as he moves further down her throat with hungry, open-mouthed kisses, as if wanting to devour her, his teeth scraping over her taut skin when she takes his cock fully in her hand. He eyes the desperate heaving of her breasts, pressing against him, still trapped in the lacy, flimsy garment. It's an incredibly sensual sight, and he bends his head to trace the curves of her cleavage with the tip of his tongue.

In time with the slow drag of Herman's tongue, Fritzie's fist pulls upward on his cock, her thumb following the track of a pulsating vein until she reaches the tip, where it gently worked at that sensitive ridge. Her other hand is plunged into his light hair, holding his mouth to her chest and guiding him lower, his humid breath dampening the lace of her bra.

A hard shudder runs through him, causing him to exhale a shivery moan against her breast, his fingers inside her curling in response. He plants moist kisses where the edge of her bra meets her skin, his tongue flicking out to taste.

When his fingers move inside her, her hips jerk roughly in reponse, and her loud cry echoes off the walls of the Klub.

Calming down, her strokes take on a rhythm of their own, steady but unhurried, the pads of her fingertips memorizing and cataloguing and searching for the next hot spot. The hand in his hair slides out and down the side of his face, around and under his chin to the topmost button of his shirt, which she flicks open in the same leisurely manner she did his fly.

(no subject)

funny-herman.livejournal.com - 2008-01-07 01:14 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only